Another Day
by BoomChick
Summary: It's been a rough few months for a lot of people. This story is 100% bonafide fluff. Sephiroth and Cloud spoil one another in little ways throughout the timeline. From Shinra to Avalanche, this time everything turns out okay. A few sad and stressful moments, but happy endings guaranteed! Cover by Tomowowowo [Unfinished]
1. Chapter 1

Part One

Shinra

At first, Cloud had only seen the shining pieces of him. The war hero, the superhuman fighter, the gleaming silver of his hair, the swell of his chest, the impossible musculature, the strange green eyes. When his lips curved up in a small, confident smile, Cloud always felt a flutter in his stomach. Not anxiety for once, but desire and delight. And now, so often, Sephiroth's smiles were for him.

Then, not long after, he'd seen the darkness. The sorrow. The years of abuse that had forced the subtlety in Sephiroth's expressions. The utter uncertainty behind Sephiroth's cocksure power. The emotional fragility he hid with all the desperation of a wounded creature. The pain in his eyes sometimes.

Cloud swore to himself to fix it. In little ways, a bit at a time. He started simple, leaving flowers for Sephiroth once in awhile. He kept them small, simple, delicate. A rose here or there, always inside the apartment, never public or embarrassing. He knew that Sephiroth didn't want that. Not now. Not yet. And the whole point was to give him a little joy.

He wasn't expecting the flowers that started to appear in his own apartment. For a while it became something like a game. A call and response. A rose in Sephiroth's apartment, a daisy in his own. A bar of chocolate left there, a box of cookies waiting on his bed. It was as fun and easy a piece of their flirtation as any. Cloud would have been put out that his spoiling seemed to have turned into a mutual affair if Sephiroth hadn't seemed so completely pleased with the game.

Flowers and chocolates were sweet enough gifts, but they weren't enough to heal years of distrust and damage. Or to fill in when Cloud's wisdom or tact fell by the wayside. Too many nights, he found himself faced with an exhausted and silent Sephiroth, and nothing that he could say or do to help. So Cloud started hunting for more skills.

Soon he was armed with a five-session series of massage classes and some gently scented oils. He waited for his moment, though, biding his time until it was Sephiroth came home so tired he still had a smudge of dirt across his usually immaculate chest from his latest mission, Cloud felt his weariness evaporate in excitement to finally use his new skills.

"Come on," He'd said, tugging gently at Sephiroth's arm, leading him towards the bedroom.

"I don't think I'm up to sleeping yet." Sephiroth had sighed, gently pulling his hand away.

"I'm not going to make you sleep," Cloud reached back, catching Sephiroth's hand. "I just have a surprise for you. Trust me?"

"Nn." Sephrioth's eyes flickered away, then slid back to Cloud, studying him a moment. Then he nodded.

This time when Cloud led him towards the bedroom, Sephrioth followed. The Soldier let Cloud unbuckle the straps of his jacket, and shrugged out of it gamely for him. He lowered a hand to his belt, and tilted his head when Cloud caught his hand.

"Not that kind of surprise." Cloud teased. "Maybe after. Lie down on the bed, okay? Face down. Here."

He shifted over, arranging the two pillows like his teacher had shown him so Sephiroth could lie flat and head down if he wanted with plenty of room to breathe still. He felt his lover's confused, interested eyes on his every movement, and smiled a little. He seemed to spend a lot of his time mystifying Sephiroth…

Sephiroth lay down carefully, keeping his eyes on Cloud. Cloud gave him an encouraging smile and opened up the second drawer of the bedside table, pulling out the massage oil he'd purchased. Roses and vanilla. Two of the thirteen scents in Sephiroth's hair that he'd managed to identify. Anyone catching a whiff would just assume they'd been lucky enough to snag one fragment of his hair's fragrance.

Cloud bent briefly to kiss Sephiroth's cheek before sliding onto the bed, straddling his hips. First he shifted Sephiroth's hair to the side. Then he carefully guided his arms back to rest at his sides. Sephiroth grunted softly as his pillowing forearms were removed. He didn't resist, but he also didn't relax. He kept half an eye on Cloud. Cloud, for his part, poured massage oil into his palms and rubbed them together. A couple drops fell onto Sephiroth's skin, and the man under him shivered.

Cloud tried very hard not to be too excited by that.

His first touch was intimate. Daring. All-or-nothing on if Sephrioth would accept his attention. He lowered both his palms to the base of Sephiroth's back, dug in, and slid his hands all the way up his long spine.

He'd practiced on all his classmates, and on the teacher. Nothing had prepared him for how tight, how strong Sephiroth's muscles were.

And nothing had prepared him for the depth of the groan the man let out at the soothing touch.

Cloud had learned a little therapeutic massage, but he wasn't putting that into practice. Not just now, anyway. That stuff was good, but it HURT. He wanted Sephiroth to feel amazing, toe to tip. So instead it was all soothing, deep motions, built to relax. From the top of his spine, he spread out, sliding outwards over his shoulders before rubbing the flats of his hands in slow circles over Sephiroth's shoulder blades.

Below him, as he began, Sephiroth tensed first, then slowly melted under the touch with a deep long breath out.

"That's…" He trailed off as Cloud slid back to his spine, rolling the heels of his palms slowly on either side of the center of Sephiroth's back.

"Okay?" Cloud asked, fretting for a moment.

"Wonderful." Sephiroth breathed, and turned his face into the pillows to let Cloud continue.

Cloud had never worked harder on a massage. From the base of Sephiroth's skull where he'd rubbed his fingers in slow soothing circles, to the very tops of his hips which were as far down as he could reach, Sephrioth was solid muscle. It took effort to so much as begin to make a meaningful impact on them.

But with every motion, Sephiroth was sighing, or stretching just a little, or murmuring his name softly into the pillows.

When Cloud finished and sat back, he expected Sephiroth to turn to him. But the man was still and silent. Cloud watched the rise and fall of his back with each breath a moment before bending down, carefully lifting the corner of one pillow.

Sephiroth was so asleep he was drooling onto the bed. Cloud had never felt so proud.

(Sephrioth woke up deeply embarrassed, but Cloud's happiness and pride quickly settled Sephiroth's discomfort. They went through a great deal of massage oil after that.)

* * *

"I love going out with you." Cloud said softly, fidgeting in his seat.

"I sense a 'but' to follow." Sephiroth murmured, setting down his fork. "Are our dates lacking? I've tried to be comprehensive…"

"It's not that!" Cloud said quickly. "I just wish I had… You know. Nicer clothes. I'll try to go shopping soon. I'm just a little tired of always looking like a trooper or a mountain kid, you know?"

"I like how you look." Sephiroth had soothed, reaching out to lay a hand over Cloud's. It had soothed him in the moment, but Sephiroth still took note.

He hadn't forgotten the massages that Cloud offered so eagerly each time he came home from a rough mission, or the fresh flowers that Cloud always made sure ended up in his apartment. Sephiroth tried not to let himself think about how expensive flowers were in Midgar these days. Import prices had made them a luxury long before Cloud made a habit of buying him one or two every couple weeks.

So he set his own plan into motion, relying on intuition and a Shinra-sanctioned style-sheet he was to adhere to when dressing to go out in public. It wouldn't do, the President had said, to have the world's hero running around in sweatpants.

Sephiroth had bitten his tongue to keep from informing the president exactly how much he liked sweatpants. But now he was rather grateful for the sheet. He was no fashion expert. He did not know what constituted 'nice clothes' really, though from what he'd observed most of the people around him dressed in what was considered a 'formal' style, and his sleeveless workout shirts were not considered appropriate in public forums.

He hated shopping for himself through the rows of black and grey suits and so-called 'sporty' and 'casual chic' clothing. But right now he wasn't shopping for himself.

Cloud came home one day to find four packages sitting on his bed in the trooper bunks.

"You get a raise, Spike?" Teased one of his roommates.

"Are any of them more of those cookies from your sweetheart?" Asked another, less teasing and more hopeful.

"No idea," Cloud said, struggling with the tape. "Maybe my mom? I haven't ordered anything."

"Spending all your money on your date?"

"Something like that," Cloud muttered, flushing. At least his roommates hadn't given him crap for being gay in the first place. He'd take a little ribbing about his relationship other than that, so long as they didn't dig too deeply into who he was seeing.

He frowned slightly as he opened the first box to find a black biking jacket inside, durable leather with padding for taking hard falls. He slid it on, and glanced in the mirror. Even his roommate gave a low whistle of approval, and Cloud had to agree. He looked… Cool.

It took him opening the other three packages—a shirt that was some sort of clever mix of polo and t-shirt that managed to look pretty sleek without looking too ritzy, a pair of black fitted jeans, new white high-top shoes—For him to put it together.

That night, he went to Sephiroth's apartment wearing his new clothes. The look of pleasure on Sephiroth's face was all the confirmation he needed.

"How do I look?" Cloud asked, shifting on his feet.

"Amazing." Sephiroth confirmed.

"How'd you know my sizes?"

"I snooped." Sephiroth admitted, bending and pressing a kiss to Cloud's lips.

Cloud caught his hair, sliding his hands back to cup the back of his neck, deepening their kiss in pleasure and excitement.

Suddenly, he'd thought for the first time while looking in the mirror that maybe he did look like the kind of guy who got to date Sephiroth.

"Thank you," He whispered when they finally parted.

"Oh," Sephiroth's lips curved into a slow, small smile. "My pleasure."

(They did not go out that night to show off Cloud's new look. In fact, Cloud's beautiful new clothes ended up in a pile on the floor of Sephiroth's bedroom, tangled with Sephrioth's own.)

* * *

Sometimes there were bad days. Sometimes there were moments when Cloud got too close. Touched on something that shouldn't be touched.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you to say thank you?" He ribbed after Sephiroth closed the door on a delivery man.

"No." Said Sephiroth flatly.

Fuck, thought Cloud to himself as he watched the walls slam down.

It happened every once in awhile. A gentle tease about something Sephiroth SHOULD know. SHOULD understand. A joke, a turn of phrase, a reference, a film…

Sephiroth never explained. He didn't even complain or object. He just shut down. Cloud had watched it happen over and over. Sometimes he met up with Sephrioth for a date only to find him already shut down from earlier. He still functioned, still spoke, and gave polite smiles. But his mind was elsewhere. He was detached.

So Cloud had done the only thing he could. He'd snooped. Not into Sephiroth himself, but into the symptoms—what could help, what they could be. He'd made mental notes and danced around them. He added parents to the list. But it wasn't enough, just trying to dodge Sephiroth being hurt. So this time he didn't let it go.

"Hey," He said, rising from where he was sitting, going to Sephiroth's side instead of falling into silence and awkwardness with him.

Sephiroth held still for his approach, not quite meeting his eyes, but not outright ignoring him. Cloud lifted his hand to touch Sephiroth's cheek. Contact, his reading had said. Dissociative episodes weren't uncommon in people with battle fatigue or ptsd. Cloud wasn't sure that was it, but he was pretty sure that the word 'dissociative' fit Sephiroth's moments like this like a glove.

"I'm sorry." He said softly. "Come sit with me?"

"It's fine," Sephiroth said dismissively. "I was joking."

Nice defense mechanism you have there, Cloud thought to himself.

"Still," Cloud didn't challenge the assertion at face value. But when Sephiroth nodded, he still drew him towards the sofa. He took the takeout food from Sephiroth's hand, setting it on the table and drew him to sit on the sofa.

He wasn't sure how to proceed. But he knew what Sephiroth liked. So he just started running his hand into his lover's hair in slow, gentle strokes until Sephiroth's empty eyes closed softly with a flutter under the affectionate touches. Then his shoulders slumped slowly, and Cloud was shocked to watch him bend slowly over, bracing his elbows on his legs and his face in his hands.

He leaned over, wrapping his arms around his lover's bowed shoulders, holding him close and rubbing one hand up and down his arm gently, maintaining the steady, soothing stayed there a long while, Sephiroth silent in his cautious vulnerability, Cloud trying his best to ensure that he was as supported as he could be. When Sephiroth finally straightened with a slow breath out, his eyes weren't empty anymore. He didn't tell Cloud what he'd been thinking, but he didn't shut down either.

"Thank you." He murmured, as if it was a gift.

"Any time," Cloud had whispered in return.

(It would be another year before Cloud found out in person what lessons Sephiroth's father had taught him. Thank you wasn't in the vocabulary. In fact, by the time Sephiroth dragged himself back from the lifestream to save Zack and Cloud from their torment, Cloud didn't have any vocabulary left at all.)

* * *

"Zack."

"We're not far enough."

"You're exhausted."

"We're not fucking far enough, Sephiroth!"

"Alright. I understand. Let me help."

The hand he offered carried too much baggage. Too much weight. Too much to ask, for Zack to trust him again. Too precious a burden to offer to help with. He knew, he knew. But Zack only lifted his too-bright eyes to him, then shifted Cloud off of his shoulder so that Sephrioth could pick him up.

Cloud, for his part, was passive. Empty. Eyes barely open, glowing a terrible uniform green. Sephiroth lifted him in one arm, letting Cloud hang limp against his shoulder to support himself so he could keep his sword out in his other hand.

"He won't wake up." Zack said blankly. "Not for weeks now. Maybe longer."

"Mako poisoning," Sephiroth supplied. "I was so late."

"But you came back."

"Of course."

"Will he be okay?"

"Hard to say. For now, the best we can do is keep him safe."

Zack's eyes were wired. Wild. Sephiroth didn't have a spare hand to comfort him. He shrugged Cloud into a slightly more comfortable position. Or, at least, one that he hoped was more comfortable. Cloud's still mako-damp hair brushed over Sephiroth's neck. He made a mental note to pad his pauldrons somehow to give Cloud a more comfortable ride.

"Nowhere is safe." Zack said at his side. "Nowhere I know."

Sephiroth could not disagree. His world was no safer.

"You are not alone." He said. It was all he could offer.

Zack's brows twisted and he lifted his eyes to Sephiroth. A small, aching smile touched his lips before he turned back to trudging doggedly forward.

They walked all day, long into the night. When Zack's legs finally gave out, Sephiroth carefully settled Cloud at his side and started setting up a camp for the night. It was the first night of a new could not chew, but he would drink water and broth. Sephiroth and Zack worked together looking after him, feeding him sips of broth and water to try to keep his body working, carrying him as they walked.

It was quiet the first three days. Quieter than Sephiroth had ever known the world with Zack in it. They spoke rarely, and when they do it was about dark topics.

("Are you going to lose it again?"

"I don't think so. I'm sorry that I did."

"I'm sorry for hurting you."

"I'm just glad you stopped me."

"Cloud stopped you. Thank him."

"I will.")

Then, so slowly it was almost imperceptible, Zack's spirits returned to him. He chattered through the day, mostly to Cloud. He urged him to rouse, but never berated him. He told Sephiroth what had happened to them with a laugh on the edge of breaking. Sephrioth listened first, and then when Zack ran out of words he filled in with his own. Secrets from long ago. Illicit experiments that he'd only come to understand in Nibelheim when he lost his mind.

Shinra followed them as far as they went, haunting their steps with gunfire and shouts of 'traitor.' Sephiroth and Zack cut them down and went on. Zack had been the one to decide their direction in the end. Back to Midgar, to his flower girl. Sephiroth thought of how far he'd have gone for Cloud, and did not begrudge him the choice.

Each night when they stopped, Sephiroth took time with Cloud. He rubbed his muscles carefully, making sure his body would work when he was ready to use it again. He brushed his fingers through Cloud's blonde spikes, keeping them neat and untangled. He spoke to him quietly, told him what he'd missed, that he missed him, that he was safe now. Cloud did not speak or reply. But he always seemed to breathe a little easier after Sephiroth's attention. The eerie glow had never left his eyes.

It was not much, but it was as close as Sephiroth could come to spoiling him for the moment.

(Their new normal lasted nearly a year. Then Shinra's guns caught up to them, just outside Midgar. They left Cloud as safe as they could make him. Zack ruffled his hair. Sephiroth kissed his forehead. Cloud shifted just a little, but Sephiroth knew it was only their motions that had moved him. He turned with Zack and went to face the music.

There were bullet holes in their flesh the moment they were in view. As strong as Zack was, as fast as Sephiroth, they could not outrun every bullet of a group of men sent out to carry through on a suicide mission.)

* * *

The rain was really insult to injury. He could feel the mud seeping into his hair. Into his clothes. Into the bullet holes in his flesh. It had gone as well as it could have. No one else on the cliff face was breathing after all. Only the two of them. But still…

Sephiroth lay by Zack's side on the ridge. His head was turned towards Midgar as they lay in a pool of their mingled blood, breathing hard, but still breathing. Zack coughed beside him, and let out a laugh that was so clearly standing in for a moan of pain. Sephiroth couldn't stop shivering, just a little, as the cold rain poured down on the pair of them.

"How many'd you count?" Zack wheezed.

"At least a hundred." Sephiroth replied, sounding bored but not feeling it. It was hard to be bored while his body tried to heal the dozen holes in his chest.

"What, no exact number?" Zack teased, his voice raw.

"I got a little busy." Sephiroth muttered, turning his head a little further to spit blood before he aspirated it. "And I wouldn't harass me too much. Some of those shots I took for you."

"As if I didn't take any for you."

"Hn. Touche."

"You gunna live?"

"Of course. You will too."

"Not so sure, Seph."

"You will." Sephiroth insisted, cutting his eyes over towards Zack, squinting against the rain. They were lying head to head, sprawled in different directions. "I'm counting on you."

"Sap." Zack accused, grinning with blood on his teeth. He tried to lift his hands—to lift Buster sword—then dropped weakly back to the mud.

Sephiroth couldn't lift his head to look at where Masamune's shattered blade had landed. He still held her hilt and the first foot of her sword. The rest was gone.

Somewhere closeby, someone moved.

"Shit." Whispered Zack.

Sephiroth tensed, trying to force himself upright. His muscles seized, but he couldn't get the strength to sit up. You have to, he ordered himself. You have to, they'll kill Zack, stand up.

Then he heard a quiet sound of effort, and caught a breath so sharp that he ended up inhaling blood after all. He choked, coughing, each racking breath sending a wave of pain through his body. But he'd recognized that little whimper of sound. That tiny, desperate noise of effort.

He wasn't certain until the dead-eyed trooper crawled to their sides, hands clawed in the earth, struggling closer in a body he didn't fully control yet. Cloud pushed himself up to his elbows, his eyes too bright, so hauntingly empty, but he was moving, looking, trying… He looked to Zack and his brows knit as if he knew he should be afraid—should be worried—but couldn't figure out how. He shifted forward, his legs too numb to work.

"Z…" He blinked, dazed, caught a breath. "Zack…"

"Hey," Zack whispered, a slow grin crossing his lips. "You came…"

"Came." Echoed Cloud, his voice soft and haunted, even as his eyes traced in confusion over his friend's bloodied body.

"Must have worried." Sephiroth murmured. "Imagine. All we had to do was get in mortal dang—hng."

His word cut off in a choked sound as he felt his heartbeat stutter, his injuries sting. Live, he urged himself. Live, live, live.

"S… Se…"That voice cut through. Cut through anything. Everything."Sephi…roth?"

He blinked rainwater out of his eyes like tears, and gasped in another breath at the feeling of that voice in his ears.

"Cloud." He whispered, and could not be ashamed at the aching sound of his own voice.

Cloud did not speak again. But when Zack reached up a weak hand to catch him, Cloud let his friend pull him into a weak, bloody hug. Cloud's head rested on Zack's chest, till his blonde bangs were dyed red, and smears of blood spotted his cheeks. For a moment, it was just them on the cliffside, bloody, exhausted, still breathing.

When Cloud started to scream, neither of them could blame him. Sephrioth finally managed to force his wounded body into motion, just enough to lift a hand to the man he loved.

Cloud accepted his hold with all the grace of a broken puppet, falling against him and falling apart.

Slowly Zack managed to crawl a little closer to them both so that they could all curl together against the rain. And slowly, Cloud's screams began to settle as the terror faded and the rain stopped.

(When they were finally able to move again, they were stuck together with blood and muck. Cloud didn't want to let go of Sephiroth, though he didn't—couldn't verbalize it. They let him hold on. Sephiroth dropped Masamune's hilt with some regret to the ground. A broken sword would do him no good now. But it had done all the good he'd needed. They were still alive. And Midgar beckoned.)

* * *

 _Part Two to come next week…_


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two

Midgar

Sephiroth had never seen Zack happier. And he had never seen a person exhibit as much joy and fear as Aerith did upon their arrival. The joy at seeing Zack was quite quickly overwhelmed by absolute terror at the amount of blood on his person and the number of bullet holes in his clothes.

He was moderately surprised to find himself drawn into her concern as well. Cloud was not exempt either, though he was still vague. Empty. Confused. Sephiroth couldn't wait to rest with him. To try to ease the obvious fear and strain still dogging his every step, lagging just behind the sick confusion.

Somehow he looked worse awake. Ill and pale and not at all himself. Sephiroth was more than eager to slip away from Aerith and Zack, leaving her tending his wounds and connecting with him in quiet, gentle voices.

("I wrote to you."

"Really? Sorry, I wasn't getting mail."

"Where were you? I was starting to think…"

"I'll tell you. Promise. Just… Just for now…"

"Oh… Oh, it's okay Zack… Don't cry, okay? I'm here." )

Sephiroth had one of the warm wet rags Aerith had supplied them and walked to Cloud's side. He was standing near the doorway, looking as lost as ever. His eyes flicked to Sephiroth as he approached, but there was no joy or excitement in them. Only that lost look again.

"Come sit down," Sephiroth urged, taking Cloud's hand carefully and leading him to a chair nearby.

Cloud sat at the urging, his eyes drifting off again, gazing towards Zack and Aerith, but not really at him. He was still lost in his mind. Sephiroth set to carefully cleaning Zack's blood off his cheek and out of his hair. What they all REALLY needed was a bath. But this was the slums, and though Aerith was being a kind host, water was costly here. It would have been an enormous burden on her and her mother for them to use so much. Maybe they would have to implement Zack's 'mercenary' plan sooner rather than later.

Sephiroth carefully worked the cloth over Cloud's cheek in slow, steady motions. He didn't notice the exact moment Cloud turned his eyes to him. But he paused when he realized he was being intensely studied. He lifted his eyes, meeting Cloud's gaze.

"You're alive." Cloud said, his voice confused and flat.

"Yes." Sephiroth agreed, sitting back slowly. He almost took one of Cloud's hands on instinct, but he held back. This was not the comatose man whose hands he'd massaged.

"You stabbed me?"

His brows furrowed in confusion, in hurt. Sephiroth looked away. He'd spent hours staring into his green, empty eyes. Eyes that would have been bright and lively still if not for him. Eyes that should have still been blue and sunny…

"Yes." He said, his heart breaking.

"I…" Cloud's eyes narrowed. His expression filled with sudden pain and horror, his hand curling into claws in his lap. "Killed you…"

"You stopped me." Sephiroth soothed softly, carefully stroking the cloth over Cloud's bloodied cheek again, watching his green eyes flicker with sick Mako light. "I survived."

For a moment Cloud didn't move. Sephiroth waited, a pit of anxiety in his stomach. How he'd longed for this moment. How he'd feared it. The moment Cloud would cast judgement on what he had done.

He wasn't prepared for the faintly-green tears that sprung to life in Cloud's eyes and started dropping heavy and crystalline down his cheeks. His breath caught in a little hiccuping sob, and one of his hands rose blearily to his face, as if in confusion.

"Cloud?"

Sephiroth lowered the rag carefully, watching Cloud cry with confusion and concern.

"Thought…" Cloud whispered. "Thought I lost you…"

Sephiroth had heard the other two stop talking, but he didn't let their attention distract him. He lifted his hands carefully to rest on Cloud's arms in gentle support.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, surprised by how small, how fragile his own voice sounded. "I'm so sorry."

Perhaps that was all Cloud needed to hear. Perhaps he'd already known. Perhaps he was just still a little mind-addled. Either way, he fell into Sephiroth's arms and clung to him. Sephrioth squeezed him back while Cloud gasped and cried into his shoulder. For their pain, for his sorrow, for the suffering in the labs, for Sephiroth's betrayal… Sephiroth wasn't sure. But he cried, so Sephiroth held him.

A short while later he heard Aerith murmuring to Zack about food and drawing him out of the room, both of them still sniffling conspicuously. Sephiroth didn't acknowledge them. He was obsessed—All of his attention was on Cloud. The tightness of his arms around him. The strength behind those muscles which had once been so human.

He shuddered once, holding his lover a little closer in return, and kissing his blond hair softly.

"Hnn." Cloud whispered, rubbing his face against Sephiroth's shoulder and catching a breath. "You're tense."

"It's been a long year." Sephiroth teased softly.

"I'll see… If I can find some massage oil." Cloud whispered, his voice still a little too distant, still a little weak. "You need spoiling…"

Sephiroth let out a bark of a laugh that somehow turned itself into a sound of pain and desperation. He clung a little tighter to Cloud, curling around him where they sat wrapped around one another on the floor.

"You're back." He whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

Not entirely himself yet, not completely together, but back. Cloud only hummed in response wearily, his eyes falling wearily closed. Sephiroth was still covered in blood, still exhausted from healing, still pining for Masamune. But the smile that crossed his face was anything but sad.

Aerith made them pie. Zack caught her up to date while they ate, and Cloud too when it turned out that their little trooper didn't remember much of what had happened at all. Aerith's mother was none too pleased to come home to find three strange Soldiers under her roof, Ex- or not. But Zack managed to set her at ease that they'd be paying their keep and they wouldn't stay too long. Just till they were on their feet.

Which brought the talk back to what they were going to do. And really, Zack's first suggestion remained their best option.

Mercenaries it would be.

(That night, Cloud wrapped his arms around Sephiroth, drawing his head to his chest. Sephiroth pressed there hungrily, listening to Cloud's steady heartbeat and breathing. His arms wrapped around the blond's waist, holding him close. He felt Cloud's hands tighten in his hair, greedily holding him closer, and he could have sobbed in relief. )

* * *

Two side jobs in, and they found Tifa. Not the young woman they remembered, but unmistakable at the same time. Or, at least, Sephiroth had certainly recognized her before her fist made contact with his face. After that, things got a little fuzzy. He was fairly sure he heard Cloud talking while someone pulled the woman off of him, but that first hit had concussed him.

"Pretty impressive," he tried to say. He certainly made some sort of noise, but judging by how Zack laughed, he doubted it was what he'd intended to say.

By the time the ringing in his ears had stopped, Cloud had given him a cloth to staunch the nosebleed and Tifa had been reasonably assured that Sephiroth was not the madman who'd nearly laid waste to Nibelheim years before.

He was also just in time to hear what had happened to the town.

("I don't know where everyone is." Tifa said blankly. "The Shinra started rounding everyone up. At gunpoint. I… I… I tried to fight them. They shot my father, so I tried, but…"

She lifted the corner of her white shirt to display the gunshot scar there, a little look of misery on her face.

"I don't know what happened to everyone else."

"Nothing good." Zack said sadly, glancing to Cloud.)

And then there was the job. Just one mission, against Shinra. How could they say no to something that let them spit in Shinra's face? No matter how… Unique… The current leader of Avalanche was. That name certainly caused Sephiroth pause at first, but it was fairly clear that this man and his crew of patches had no idea what the original Avalanche had really been.

There certainly weren't any holdover members from the previous batch.

Bombing a reactor was… New. It was a good feeling, in a way. Watching Cloud fight was unnerving and thrilling.

And after came the bonding.

Cloud was high on battle, his eyes still glowing, a little smile on his face of competent success that was still SO new to him. And Sephiroth risked what he'd wanted to ask since Cloud woke up.

"Can I give you a rub down?" He purred.

"You mean like a massage?" Cloud asked.

"For starters, sure." Sephiroth murmured, wrapping an arm around Cloud's waist.

"Hm." Cloud smirked. "I'll take you up on that."

They started with a wash. Still no baths, certainly, Avalanche didn't pay that well. But Sephiroth was just as glad as he stroked the slightly warm wet cloth down Cloud's chest. It was immeasurably more satisfying to clean the grime and sweat off inch by inch. As foreplay went, it was messier than Sephiroth liked. But his standards had taken an unavoidable hit, and he had come to terms with it. Anything was better than being alone. And if he had not come for Zack and Cloud, if he had not gone back to free them, he never would have felt joy or peace again. He was certain of that.

It was such a near thing that they had lived at all. That Nibelheim had survived. Or, at least, survived him. Whatever Shinra had done, Tifa's story made it clear that the town had not come away without harm. Cloud had barely had time to mourn. Not for his town and not for himself. But he seemed disinclined to take this time for mourning, so Sephiroth was happy to be a distraction.

His hand only stopped when he reached the center of Cloud's chest, where an awful, slender scar stood out in sharp contrast to his skin. Pale and perfect, just like the monster that had inflicted it. Sephiroth looked up to Cloud's blue eyes and met them. They did not speak, but held each other's gazes. Sephiroth did not know what Cloud saw in his face. He knew his expressions were as inhuman as he was. But he hoped the guilt that clawed in his chest was clear.

In Cloud's eyes he saw no softness. No pitty. He stared Sephiroth down like he was waiting. Sephiroth took a soft breath after a moment and bent, pressing a kiss to the scar he'd left. The skin was hot under his cool lips, and Cloud inhaled into the touch. For a moment, Sephiroth thought it had been the wrong choice. Then Cloud's hand came up to rest under Sephiroth's high ponytail, cupping the back of his head to hold him in place.

Sephiroth pressed his cheek against the mark, letting his eyes fall closed, letting the silence linger. He could hear Cloud's heartbeat, still strong and quick with adrenaline. The taut muscles under his cheek tensed and released slowly. Then Cloud let out a long breath and released Sephiroth's head.

"Come on," he prodded. "You promised me a full rub down, not just a half."

He smirked lightly, playfully as Sephiroth pulled back.

"Oh trust me," Sephiroth purred, his spirits reviving at the sight of the challenge in Cloud's eyes. "We've only just begun."

It was the truth, but only in the sense that it took them a full hour to get each other cleaned up. Cloud insisted on returning the favor. When Sephiroth arched an eyebrow at him with a smirk, Cloud poked him in the chest firmly and wrinkled his nose.

"Don't give me that look," he scolded. "We're sharing a bed and I have enhanced senses too these days."

"Are you saying I stink?" Sephiroth arched a lofty eyebrow.

"I'm saying whoever things you're not human hasn't smelled you after a long day of hard work," Cloud's voice was a challenge. "You still sweat like anyone else."

Sephiroth stared at him a long moment, trying to decide whether or not to be offended.

(He eventually listed to the side of 'not,' but he still huffed at Cloud and refused to look at him until Cloud dragged him down into a kiss. It was hard to be angry for the assertion, after all. He wanted nothing more than to believe there was still enough human in him to belong with these people.)

* * *

"Cloud, you'll have to put on a dress."

The world, Cloud decided, was ending. This was it. The end. He was going to keel over and die. He'd lived through hell just to die of mortification in the slums with Aerith Gainsborough grinning at him like a wildcat.

His only solace was the fact that he'd never seen Sephrioth slack-jawed in shock before.

"So that we can go after her!" Aerith clarified when the shocked silence stretched. "That way whichever girl he picks, the other two will be able to help put him in his place!"

She pounded her fist into her own palm decisively, her grin not fading in the slightest, and the solid impact of her fist to her palm significantly more impressive than her slender arms and sweet dress implied.

Sephiroth was recovering himself, Cloud noted, as the ex-Soldier's mouth snapped shut. Then those green eyes slid over to meet Cloud's. For a moment he felt that same icy fear that filled him sometimes. That moment where it was Nibelheim again. Where Sephiroth was lifting his sword, piercing eyes narrowed in hatred, blood already on the blade and…

He shook the thought away. He was not afraid of Sephiroth, he told himself firmly. But he didn't quite believe it yet. All thoughts of fear were vanquished quickly, though, when he saw the new expression slowly dawning on Sephiroth's face.

Shock had given way to a half-smile. His eyes lowered, dragging up Cloud from his boots to the spikes of his hair. The smile deepened, parting to show just a glint of teeth in a hungry, lusty expression. If Cloud hadn't already been bright red, that would have sent him over the edge into boiled lobster territory.

He clenched his jaw and his fists, looking between Aerith and Sephiroth. She looked nearly as pleased as Sephiroth did. And oh, he begrudged her that too. But there was no WAY he was going to let Sephiroth keep that smug look on his face.

"No way," he snapped.

"But Cloud!" Aerith looked honestly taken aback by his vehemence.

"I'm not putting you in danger by making you go in there," Cloud said, only barely managing not to stumble over his words as the perfect plan occurred to him. "So Sephiroth will have to put on a dress too!"

His voice came out a little awkwardly intense and loud. But oh it was worth it to watch the smile drop off Sephiroth's face to be replaced with awkward bewilderment.

"But," Sephiroth started, his brows furrowing.

Aerith, however, seemed to have come alive at the words. Her delight brimmed over, and her grin widened into an almost manic expression of glee.

"How valiant!" She declared. "Don't worry, I'll help you both get ready! And I'm sure I can slip inside to give you backup just in case!"

"I–" Sephiroth looked mortified.

"If that's what we have to do," Cloud nodded as sagely as he could, though he was still burning with embarrassment all the way to the tips of his ears. "It's to help Tifa out, after all."

Sephiroth stared straight at him, his arms loose by his side, and a look of almost betrayed confusion on his face. Cloud met his eyes and smiled. Sephiroth actually backed up half a step at that, and Cloud's pride at having outfoxed him for once almost outweighed his embarrassment.

"Where first?" He asked Aerith, clearing his throat when his voice came out an embarrassed squeak.

"Dresses," Aerith whispered intensely, clapping her hands together. "Oh, dresses…"

The dressmaker was unnervingly excited. Cloud found himself shirtless and measured before he had so much as started to comprehend the words 'purple' and 'shimmery.' Sephiroth seemed, if anything, even more uncomfortable than he was. Cloud almost felt guilty when he watched Sephiroth go ramrod stiff at being touched by a stranger. Almost.

"You're hair will be fine," Aerith said, tugging at Sephiroth's ponytail with all the easy familiarity of a childhood friend. Sephiroth's offended gaze flew from the tailor to her, but he didn't do anything more than scowl. "Just a little styling. But Cloud…"

Oh shit, thought Cloud.

"You'll definitely need a wig," Aerith proclaimed with a nod.

He'd thought he'd been done blushing before, but oh it reasserted itself with a violence now.

"You might want to take these two out to get gussied up a little too," suggested the dressmaker's daughter as her father swept into his workshop. She patted her cheeks, smiling in honest happiness to see her father so motivated. "You've got one that's too pale and another that's too red."

"They're a handful!" Aerith agreed.

"YOU'RE a handful," Cloud muttered, suddenly no longer confused as to how this mild, gentle woman was able to keep up with Zack. She was secretly as wild and wicked as his friend was. She just hid it better.

But he still let her wisk them away to the gym of all places, where they were assured a wig would be easily acquired. Easily turned out to cost about 150 squats.

"Clearly Zack should be doing this," Sephiroth said dryly.

Aerith's eyes went a little vacant for a moment, and Cloud worried for a moment before her lips twitched up into a smile that he would have thought was innocent if he wasn't completely certain what she was daydreaming about.

"The wig's blond," She said quickly, clearing her throat. "So it wouldn't do much good on him, would it? Come on, we're still just getting started!"

"Are we really?" Cloud's brows twisted in concern.

"Well sure," Aerith said, waving a hand to beckon them to follow her. "After all, you're both still wearing your boots, aren't you? There's no way you'll be able to convince anyone tromping around in combat boots."

"You tromp around in combat boots!" Cloud pointed to emphasize his point.

"I do not tromp!" Aerith objected. "I traipse. It's much more ladylike."

She shot him a grin over her shoulder, and Cloud groaned at the excitement still clear in her face.

Sephiroth spent the whole time in the shoe store trying to find a pair of high black boots with heels that would please Aerith. She tried to get Cloud into high-heeled sandals, but declared that he would have needed at least three pedicures before trying for the sandal look. So he'd let her put him in closed toe red heels that he only wobbled a little in.

Then Aerith dragged Sephrioth away from trying to find a pair of ladies boots that would fit around his impressive calves and started shoving HIM into sparkling sandals. Cloud glanced at Sephrioth's perfect toes with some envy. HE didn't need a pedicure, Cloud thought bitterly. Then he quickly averted his eyes as he realized he was getting jealous about which of them was wearing cuter ladies shoes.

Their next stop was worse. Cloud closed his eyes for the entire discussion about 'panties.' He tried not to pay attention while Aerith talked about the benefits of black vs white vs skin toned, and bantered with the shopkeep about whether they would be able to fit their 'assets.'

She came out with a pair of black lacy panties for Cloud, and white, nearly-sheer ones for Sephiroth.

"No one is going to be looking up my skirt." Sephiroth growled, dangling the panties by one finger.

"I've seen your underwear," Aerith said blandly, "And it will be absolutely obvious to anyone with a practiced eye if you're wearing tighty whities under there."

"Why have you seen our underwear?" Cloud blurted, flaring red again.

"We live in the same house!" Aerith rolled her eyes, leading them back towards the dress store. "I use the same washing machine!"

"Gods above," Cloud whispered, putting his head in his hands before realizing he was still holding the black panties. He jerked them away again like they'd stung him.

Sephiroth snorted at him, and Cloud scowled over at him, shoving the panties into the pocket of his good, manly, efficient, useful combat pants. He was really, really, really going to miss his pants…

Cloud had to admit, the dressmaker was fast. And talented. It didn't lessen his horror as a purple dress was shoved into his arms before he himself was pushed into a dressing room. He stood there a long moment, every hair standing on end as he swallowed back mortification. His only solace was in knowing that Sephiroth was getting the same treatment.

The dress was… Amazing, in a way. Cloud hesitated in the dressing room, staring at himself in the mirror awkwardly. The dress was beautiful. It was just that it was HIM who was wearing it… What was that expression his mom had always used? It was in the back of his mind, the fuzzed memories of Before. Before the strange distance in his heart and mind. Before everything changed. He reached for it anyway.

"Pig in a shirt," He muttered to himself, staring into the mirror. "That's the one."

"Cloooooud," sing-songed Aerith outside. "You're taking forever. Do you need me to come in and help?"

"No," Cloud said quickly, straightening the dress and clearing his throat. "I'll be right out!"

He moved the curtain aside and stepped out. He moved cautiously, feeling too drafty in some places and far too cinched in others. He cleared his throat softly, averting his eyes shyly before glancing up to Aerith. His eyes widened to find her in a nearly skin-tight red dress, a charming cutout over her chest, and a sweet, flirty cut that accentuated how modestly she usually dressed.

"What," he started.

"I wasn't going to let you two have all the fun," She smiled. "Now stand up straight! Let me look at you! It's a perfect fit…"

"I look ridiculous," Cloud muttered.

"Only because you're resisting so hard," Aerith pushed his shoulders back and nodded at him. "You'll look beautiful once you relax. Oh! Here! This will help."

Cloud took one look at the tiara in her hands and started shaking his head. No, that was definitely not going to help. He was flushed, and grumpy, but he had to admit… The attention was kind of fun. He'd never really been the center of attention, and now the dressmaker had come over to comment on how nicely the dress fit, and didn't he cut a lovely silhouette in it, and would he maybe do just one twirl?

Cloud was about to give in and twirl when the other dressing room opened.

All eyes were instantly off him. He ought to have been relieved, but his first instinct was to puff up in offense. Especially when he saw why they were distracted.

Sephiroth was fucking radiant. He stepped out of the dressing room with no shame, his every motion fluid. The silver, sparkling dress flowed like water around his even steps. He was unreally tall, unreally beautiful. He didn't look like a woman. He didn't look human. Humans weren't supposed to be that perfect.

Aerith gravitated instantly to him, stars in her eyes at the very sight, instantly effusing about his beauty.

"It's a perfect fit!" She clapped her hands in delight. "You look stunning! I think a braid for your hair? Maybe two or three, coiled up, to really show off the gown… Oh but it looks marvelous down too, like it was made for the dress! How does it feel?"

Sephiroth lifted his gaze to Cloud and smirked.

"Like a dream," he purred, looking to the dressmaker with a perfect, politic smile. "You have my gratitude."

And Cloud realized that he'd been had. He was going to have to work much harder to shake Sephiroth than putting him in a dress. His scowl tightened, and his hands clenched in the skirt of his dress. Sephiroth turned an elegant, sweeping circle for his fans, showing off the fluid fullness of the skirt.

For just a moment his hair swung away, and Cloud caught sight of something new.

There, on the low cut back. Just for a moment, in between the deep V of the silken bodice. Had he seen a scar?

The Buster sword plunged through Sephiroth's back, fatal and terrible. Through his grip on the pommel, Cloud felt the wrenching motion of Sephiroth's body spasming around the blade. He felt it and he dug in, because gods only knew what was fatal to Sephiroth now. Gods only knew. The tip had cracked the mako tube in front of him. Buster sword was so thick. So long. A scream burned in Cloud's throat as Sephrioth's hand slipped on the slick surface, falling limp to his side.

Cloud caught a breath, blinking the memory out of his eyes. He forced his hands to release from where they'd clenched into fists on his skirt. He'd stabbed Sephrioth. He hadn't remembered that. Sometimes it felt like he didn't remember anything.

He'd stabbed him. He'd shoved the blade through his back. He'd remembered Sephiroth's sword in his stomach, remembered vaguely pushing him into the mako, though not why. Not… There had been something like fear in his eyes, and…

And there had been a lot of blood. So much blood.

Cloud moved without thinking, a rustle of fabric as he approached. Sephiroth twitched just a little in surprise, but he held still as Cloud caught his shoulder. Cloud heard Sephiroth's breath catch, heard Aerith's 'Cloud?'

He ignored them, pushing Sephiroth's hair aside, staring at the scar. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Hear the rushing in his ears. He felt himself take a step back. Heard the soft, animal sound he made. He lifted his hands to his head. For a moment it felt like his mind was going to shatter. He was back in the mako, and everything was burning, and falling and–

Strong arms wrapped around him. Drew him into a tight hug, his face pressed against hard muscle and soft, sparkling silk.

"Easy," Sephiroth murmured, his voice so low Cloud felt it rumble in the man's chest. He felt Sephiroth turn his face, nuzzling into Cloud's hair. "Breathe."

Cloud sucked in a breath. He could breathe. There was no mako in his lungs, nothing impeding his breathing. His hands twitched up, wrapping around Sephiroth, tangling in his hair. He took another breath, blinking sudden, unwelcome tears out of his eyes.

They stayed there a long moment before Cloud slowly backed out of the hug. He shook his head a little, lifting a hand to make sure there were no more tears on his face. He didn't meet Sephiroth's eyes. Not until a long-fingered hand reached under his chin, tilting his head up gently. Sephiroth's expression was calm. Controlled.

"If it is upsetting, I will change." He said, low and calm.

Cloud swallowed, feeling his throat bob with the motion. Sephiroth's fingers stayed resting under his chin. It wasn't forceful, but it was a guide, keeping Cloud's chin up.

"No," Cloud said, fighting the blush from his reaction. How stupid it must have seemed to Sephiroth. For him to react like that to a scar he'd caused.

"Okay." Sephiroth bent a little closer, and Cloud caught a breath as soft, pale lips brushed over his forehead.

"Oh my," the dressmaker's daughter whispered, sounding breathless.

Cloud glanced over and flushed anew at the way her hands were clasped and her eyes were sparkling as she watched their interaction. He pulled away from Sephiroth's touch at the audience, wincing and looking to Aerith, certain she'd be even worse.

But Aerith looked serious. Sad, even. Her big green eyes were steady on Sephrioth, but looked to Cloud at his attention. For a moment, he felt like she was trying to tell him something. Like she was trying to reach inside him and help him to fit back into his body like he knew he should have.

But it was only a moment. Then she dimpled in a quick smile again and moved over to both of them.

"My goodness," She said swiftly, taking one hand from both of them. "If I thought you looked lovely by yourselves, you look even better together!"

Cloud chuffed out a laugh, his lips curving upwards despite himself. Sephrioth was still and quiet, his eyes still turned towards Cloud, all his vanity set aside for the moment. Cloud thought bitterly that it only made him look a little winsome and pensive. Not unattractive in the slightest. Though…

"You know," He said to Sephiroth, his eyes narrowing. "You ARE awfully pale. I bet the ladies at the Honeybee Inn could fix us up with some makeup."

And THAT wiped the worry off Sephiroth's face well enough.

("You just wanted an excuse to get inside," Aerith scolded later. Cloud winked at her with his new eyelash extensions. They made his eyes feel heavy, but they were pretty. Sephiroth was pouting and quiet at his side. The pout looked much more childish with soft pink lips and a hint of rouge on his cheeks. But oh, the smokey-eyed look was going to be in Cloud's dreams for sure.

They went to Don Corneo's. And for all the things in his life that Cloud had seen and heard, he would never forget the sound Tifa made when she realized who had walked in to join her.

And Cloud was only a little jealous when the Don picked Sephiroth. He kept telling himself that as he confronted the Don with Tifa and Aerith who had run in to join them. It definitely wasn't jealousy that made him threaten to crush the Don's delicates. Oh no. And it definitely wasn't concern over the little sneer of disgust on Sephrioth's lips and the way he was straightening his dress after working so hard to avoid the Don's advances.

And then the floor fell out from under them all. Literally, metaphorically, in every possible way. Because here came the Shinra to ruin everything again. All play fell by the wayside as they raced to stop the sky from falling.)

* * *

Whatever resistance the Turks and Troopers at the main pillar of Sector Seven were expecting to face, three warriors in evening gowns didn't seem to have been it. Cloud had worried that not stopping to change would cost them precious time, especially with how tight the girl's skirts were, and how cumbersome his own was. Sephiroth still moved like it was nothing, but Cloud had gotten used to that… Aerith had split off from the main group, hurrying to find Marlene and get her to safety in case the worst occurred. So Sephiroth, Cloud, and Tifa headed towards the pillar in grim determination and shimmering dresses.

But if anything, the dresses were a boon. When the gunmen facing Jesse on the tower stairs saw Ex-General Sephiroth hurtling towards them in a billowing silver gown, it bought them precious moments.

"Cloud!?" Jesse cried in pleased confusion as the three warriors crashed into the troopers she was facing.

"Are you hurt?" Cloud asked, pausing as Sephrioth and Tifa ran further up towards the sounds of gunfire.

"I'm okay!" She pushed off the railing she'd been pressed against, wiping blood off her split lip. "Let's go help the others!"

Cloud had a cure spell ready, and cast it the moment he saw Wedge. Poor guy looked like he was on death's door. But this time he left Jesse to help him and kept going. Biggs was a little better off, picking himself up. Cloud called to him that backup was coming, jumping over the bodies on the stairs to sprint towards the top. He could hear Barret yelling already. If they didn't stop the plate from dropping, it wouldn't matter that they'd gotten there in time to help Avalanche.

He burst to the top of the stairs to find a very very unwelcome sight. A redhead he recognized as a Turk was standing at the controls, his hand hovering over a very final looking button. There were two things that gave him pause. First was the presence of Zack Fair, both hands outstretched, one towards Reno and one towards Barret. The second was the fact that the Turk was pointing at Sephiroth and nearly doubled over in helpless laughter. There were tears in his eyes even. But something about the width of his smile made Cloud very uncertain about the joy he was expressing.

"Okay, wow," Zack said mildly, blinking as he looked over at Cloud's arrival from his mediating position between sides of the stalemate. "Seriously. What did I miss? Did you two go dancing without me? Was there an ex-Soldier prom I didn't get invited to?"

"It's not the time for jokin'!" Barret objected, though he looked a little flushed, and had his eyes steadfastly averted from the two Soldiers in their fancy outfits.

Cloud squeezed his grip on his sword, watching the Turk. Sephiroth stood before him, bare-handed but deadly. The wind from his unbelievably fast assent was still rippling through his dress and hair.

"Reno, you remember Cloud?"

Reno wheezed in a breath through laughing, wiping his free hand over his face, that half-crazed grin still on his lips and his hand still hovering over the button. But he waved a jaunty hello that was totally at odds with what he was about to do.

"Not the best reunion time, yo." He commented, his eyes darting to Zack.

"You're the one who sent the invitation, 'yo!'" Zack argued, gesturing to Reno's position. "Did you think a bunch of wanna-be heroes wouldn't show up for an occasion like this?"

"Kinda thought you'd crawled off to die somewhere," Reno laughed, though Cloud got the distinct impression that he was upset.

Zack just laughed, like he was having a chat with an old friend. Like the lives of hundreds—thousands—weren't dangling at the ends of a TURK's fingertip.

"Come on, man," Zack said, shaking his head. "You know those people down there didn't have anything to do with Avalanche. Look at us. We're not exactly heroes of the people. Five weirdo environmentalists, and three mercenaries? Two of whom appear to have been too busy dancing the night away…"

"We were competing for Don Corneo's attention," Sephiroth said blandly, sounding bored as ever. Cloud blinked, noticing Sephiroth's hand behind his back. The man was gesturing to him. Cloud didn't have to speak much shorthand to understand. He was being ignored. As usual.

There was nothing they could hope for that was more useful.

"You're shitting me." Zack cast Sephiroth a wide-eyed look.

"I was his chosen companion for the night," Sephiroth said blandly. "And that I won in competition against Miss Lockheart's beauty is quite the morale booster."

"Oh hush!" Tifa said, trying to play off her flush.

Cloud calculated. His new speed, his new strength, the distance between him and Reno. Then he looked to Zack. To Reno again. Saw the way their eyes met. Saw the tension between them that did not speak of hatred, but of deep confliction. Zack didn't want to hurt him, or he'd have taken him down already.

Cloud waited until Reno was halfway through opening his mouth to respond. Then he blitzed forward in a blur of motion that sent Sephiroth's hair and skirt fluttering anew.

Reno flinched back, taken by surprise. Cloud's blade swung fast and true, stronger than he'd intended.

It cut through the control panel Reno had been hovering by clean in half lengthwise, and left it sparking and smoking.

Cloud straightened, eyeing his work. That definitely wouldn't be doing anything any time soon. He only barely got out of the way of Reno's counter strike as the Turk's charged mag rod lashed out at him.

"Nice!" Zack praised cheerfully. "That handled that!"

"Goddamn it," Reno spat, scowling at the ruined machinery before twirling his mag rod and turning to the fight before him. "Well, only way to keep from getting fired over this is to bring in an Avalanche head or two!"

"You've got to be kidding," Zack said dryly. "It's literally five on one, Reno." He glanced back as Biggs Wedge and Jesse joined them on the platform. "Eight, now."

"You have not seen the mood Tseng's been in lately, yo." Reno whined. "I'll take my chances."

There was a distinct, whirring sound, and everyone went tense, glancing around. A series of shots lit up the grate between Reno and the rest of them, ricocheting violently off the ground. Sephiroth jerked to the right, guarding the all-too-human Tifa behind him. Cloud flicked a glance over and saw blossoming red on the stomach of Sephrioth's dress.

Sephiroth looked down and scowled, a disappointed look on his face.

"I liked this dress," he commented mournfully.

"Fucking shit," Reno cursed lividly, turning as a helicopter pulled into view, hovering nearby.

Cloud didn't recognize the dark haired man standing in the doorway. But he sure as hell recognized the woman he was holding.

"Aerith!" He yelled, his voice synching up with Zack's echoing cry of her name.

"Zack!" Aerith called back, barely audible over the sound of the helicopter propellers. She jolted forward, looking fully prepared to make the jump.

The dark haired man slapped her across the face without removing his eyes from Avalanche.

Reno jumped off the railing to land on the helicopter as the controls sparked again. Zack started forward, already cursing, when Tseng lifted his gun and fired. Sephiroth caught Zack around the middle just before the shot connected with the controls, setting off a series of much louder sparks, and a rumble that shook the whole pillar.

"Goddamn it!" Barret roared, lifting his gun arm.

"Don't!" Tifa grabbed him by the gun arm, yanking it down again. "Aerith's in there!"

"We need to go," Sephiroth said sharply. "Now."

"But Marlene–" Barret started.

"Marlene's safe!" Aerith yelled, shoving past Tseng to yell even as the helicopter pulled away. "She's with my mother!"

The machine sparked again with a terrible electric sound that conjured disjointed memories of screaming in Cloud's head.

"Now!" Sephiroth barked, gesturing to Zack and Cloud. "Zack, the ladies! Cloud, Biggs and Wedge!"

He himself hitched his skirt in one hand and grabbed Barret around the waist before the man could even think to object. Then he jumped off the pillar.

"Let's go!" Zack cried, catching Tifa in one arm and Jesse in the other. "Legs up!"

Cloud stared after them, frozen a moment as Zack jumped as well. Then he clenched his jaw and grabbed the two remaining humans.

"Hang on tight," He said grimly, running to the edge and jumping after his friends without letting himself doubt another moment.

Behind him he heard a spark catch, and the first terrible thrum of an explosion.

He didn't bother looking behind himself, even as Biggs and Wedge screamed on either side of him. He kept his eyes on the ground, preparing to take the punishing landing.

He saw Sephiroth look up to him with expectant, blazing eyes. And Cloud found he wasn't afraid anymore. Until he noticed the little smirk on Sephiroth's lips, and realized that he was still wearing his lacy panties under the skirt that was definitely billowing up now.

He was so angry and flustered he barely felt how much the impact hurt.

The explosion wasn't enough to drop the plate. At least not yet. But the plate above did give an unsettling lurch, and there was a terrible, pervasive sound of grinding metal and machinery. Cloud didn't get the chance to confront Sephrioth. At least not yet. A moment after making sure everyone was alright, Zack's eyes turned upwards with a strained, desperate expression.

And they all knew that they wouldn't be doing anything before they went after Aerith. No one even suggested it or complained. Barret just grumpily told them to change back into their fighting clothes before they went to invade Shinra.

(Cloud did take a moment while they were changing to glance over at the place where Sephiroth had bled onto his dress. But if he'd been wounded there, it must have healed already. It left a bright red stain on the shimmering fabric that would turn in no time to an ugly brown. But Sephrioth folded the dress carefully nonetheless. And Cloud, after a moment and a sigh, gave his the same treatment.)


End file.
